


Only Remember Me

by chains_archivist



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Boys in Chains, M/M, Slaves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 13:24:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4223370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Mac</p><p>After crashing on a primitive world, Qui-Gon suffers from memory loss and Obi-Wan is taken as a slave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Remember Me

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors).  
> \--  
> Thanks to Trinity and Calysta for their reading and beta. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Done only for a hobby, no infringement of rights intended.

It had been eight weeks since he'd woken in the middle of the woods, hurting and alone, his mind no less damaged than his body. He had come a long way from the lost and injured man who'd stumbled into Lord Seleth's hunting camp. Then he'd been wandering nearly mindless, wounded and dirty - now he was Kedric, which meant Luck, the Warlord's trusted right hand, his bodyguard and protector, the Warrior Mage, wielder of the magic flaming sword of light.   
  
And there he was, sitting on a fur covered sofa watching a roomful of decadent Shenubians screw each other like animals. Lord Seleth knew his friend didn't wish to be there, much preferred to study the books they picked up along the road on their way to discuss the year's tithes with the Grand Duke. The Warlord constantly sought some way to stir his Mage's blood, presenting him with lovely girls and beautiful boys, none of whom even raised one cool eyebrow.   
  
If he were fond of overdone marble pillars, over-bright lighting, over-cooked food and under-dressed whores, he might have found the Banquet hall orgy appealing. The whole scene was discordant - even the music was loud and out of tune as well, presumably because the musicians were drunk.   
  
He sat back, loosened the silver claps of the cloak around his shoulders and let it slide to the floor. It was hot in the pavilion and he'd already drunk two glasses of overly-sweet Senubian wine. He ignored the shrill laughter and the sight of groups of semi-naked people writhing around on furs and sensed the calm of his Power flow over him.   
  
It was always there, that thing that made him what he was, that immense Power that had helped him save the Warlord on that first fateful day. The hunting party had been inclined to kill him or tie him up to sell as a slave, though most of them had thought his age would make him worthless. Then they'd been attacked without warning and only his instinct had allowed him to save Seleth's life, to wield the flame sword and cut arrows down out of the air and swords to shattered pieces. That had impressed them, had impressed the man he'd saved, who could recognise courage and strength when he saw it, no matter how oddly it was dressed.   
  
Yet he still had no memory of his life before that day. Aside from the normal anxiety of not knowing who he was, there was also a constant strange ache inside him, as if part of himself were missing. Sometimes it faded, other times it grew stronger - he'd drunk so much wine that night because the ache was at its worst, pulling him to do something, be somewhere and he cursed his damaged brain that would not tell him what it was that gnawed at him.   
  
"Please, Obi, if you would just stand still. . ."   
  
Obi-Wan sighed and brushed the hand away from his face. "No more makeup, Ferris. I already look like a whore."   
  
"Nonsense," said the little plump eunuch as he put the powder aside and took up the hairbrush to run it down the gleaming red-gold fall of hair. "You look gorgeous, as you well know."   
  
Obi-Wan turned to study his image in the tall mirror and shook his head, making the little man grumble again. Like a whore indeed - his skin dusted with gold powder, the control bracelets at his throat, ankles and wrists gleaming with the same red-gold lustre as the rings that pierced each nipple. Inspecting his body was sadly simple - aside from a   
length of translucent silk around his hips that revealed the swell of buttocks and genitals, he wore nothing else. Just skin and an unhappy glare.   
  
"This is a waste of time. I refuse to be bedded by some barbarian!"   
  
"Then the Duke will cut you and sell you to a city brothel by morning's light." Obi-Wan saw the dismal certainty in the shadowed eyes. "I know this to be so, my young friend, I've seen our not-so-Grand Duke do it many times." Ferris set the brush aside and arranged the simple hip sheath, tying it off with a gold ribbon. "It's only flesh, Obi, just a few minutes of discomfort and then it's gone. Don't throw your life away for that."   
  
"Did you say that each time you were raped?" Obi-Wan asked quietly, regretted it as he saw the wince of memory.   
  
"No, I suppose I didn't. But if the chance comes to find a lover for yourself, who will treat you kindly, take it. Your dream of finding your friend is just that, a dream. Better to lie in the arms of a lover than between the legs of a rapist." He turned away and picked up the gold chain, attached it to the collar around Obi-Wan's throat.   
  
"If only I could get that thing off," Obi-Wan muttered as he glared at the reflection of the stone-encrusted band at his throat. "Then I'd be out of here and on my way, get back to my ship and send for help."   
  
It had all started so simply - the discovery of a lost colony, cut off from the rest of the Republic by a surrounding gas cloud, had presented the Council with an interesting challenge. The world was primitive and pre-industrial, its history clouded with war and violence. Obi-Wan Qui-Gon had been sent to verify the planet's readiness to rejoin the rest of the Galaxy. They'd landed their small ship outside a major city, hidden it using its specialized shielding, and Qui-Gon had gone off alone to try and find a local to question. When he hadn't returned and there was no response from his communicator, Obi-Wan had set out to search for him, only to be attacked by a group of mounted ruffians. He'd beaten off most of them but been struck from behind by a glancing blow from a spear.   
  
The bandits had ridden off, apparently fleeing some other conflict, and he'd been left to try and find Qui-Gon in a dazed and wounded condition. When he'd arrived, shocked and injured outside the Duke's Palace, the nobleman had recognised the clean elegance of the young man's body and seen to his rapid capture. Recognising his Force abilities, he'd had the collar on him straight away. It wasn't a Force dampener but some more natural restraint, something to do with the gems on the band which were similar to those inside his stolen lightsaber. Whatever it was, he was almost entirely cut off from the Force, helpless and naked among so many heavily armed, large men.   
  
Up until then he'd avoided rape. He was being saved and trained for some special purpose, to coincide with the arrival of the Warlord Seleth who guarded the Grand Duke's borders against invasion. It seemed he was to part of the annual treaty gifting. A delightful fate for a Jedi.   
  
He was waiting for Qui-Gon, waiting to be found, using it as an excuse to stay alive. He wasn't a fool, the knew the fate that lay before him - a life of sexual servitude, repeated rape with death his only escape in a world where he had no money, not even clothing to call his own. And Qui-Gon - Qui-Gon was alive, had to be alive, he refused to accept the idea of his lover being dead. _If I could just get this Sithdamned collar off for even just a moment, I'd know for sure._  The torment of not knowing almost as bad as the fear he lived with each day.   
  
He longed to find Qui-Gon, to leave this violent, harsh world but the thought of letting himself be raped to stay alive repulsed him. Death was easy - all he had to do was fight. To die without seeing his love one last time - that was harder still.   
  
Two large guards arrived to escort him to his duty and the little eunuch patted him on the arm with affection as he wrapped the floor-length robe of scarlet silk around him.. "Try to be strong, Obi. Perhaps he will be kind. They say he's a Mage, perhaps he isn't aggressive."   
  
"With my luck," Obi-Wan said unhappily as he was led away, "he'll be exactly the opposite."   
  
* * *   
  
Tired of the pointless entertainment before the night was half-gone, Kedric managed to leave the room un-noticed. He made his way to the tower room provided for him, taking a torch to light his way up the narrow stone passageways. It was only as he touched the door latch to his room that he sensed someone inside.   
  
Drawing his iron shortsword, he toed the door open and dodged inside. The room was lit by three stands of candles and a fire that burned strongly in the fireplace. As he slipped inside the room he saw a movement at the window and a figure turned in swirl of scarlet silk. A young, surprised face of remarkable beauty turned towards him.   
  
"Qui-Gon - Qui-Gon, it is you!" The figure launched itself across the room toward him and he turned the blade aside before it could cut the boy who landed in his arms. He staggered back, found himself wrapped in a perfumed bundle of silk-wrapped perfection.   
  
Even as he grabbed the young man and pushed him back he sensed an amazing ease in the ever-present pressure in his mind. "As pleasant as this is, I should tell you that I have absolutely no idea who you are. Are we acquainted?"   
  
"Are we....!?" The young man frowned, reached out a hand to touch his face. "You don't know me? Are you alright?"   
  
"Never better." He felt strangely excited at the touch of that hand, knew with some deep instinct that no harm would come of it . "Are we .... intimately ... acquainted?"   
  
Definitely confused now, the gold-dusted features watched him with both alarm and growing pleasure. "You - really don't recognise me? Do you - are you having memory problems?"   
  
"I have certainly been - disorientated. I should wonder how you know that but I find myself even more distracted than usual in your presence." He wrapped his arms around the silk-covered figure, walked him backwards towards the bed. "Did I perhaps travel here before and the Duke provided you for my previous pleasure? If so, I must thank him. You're very beautiful."   
  
The young man groaned softly as he was lowered onto the bed, as Kedric smoothed the skin of his cheeks and throat with his lips. "We should...we should talk...."   
  
"Talking," Kedric said, sliding his lips up through the tantalising cleft of the young man's chin, "is not what this mouth should be doing." And he explained himself by moving forward and thrusting his tongue past the open lips to taste that luscious mouth.   
  
Pleasure vibrated in the air around him, hot and throbbing. His memory was sadly damaged but he knew this body on some basic level, knew it and yet it seemed he longed to explore every inch of it with his hands and mouth. At least the boy wasn't fighting him; after an initial hesitation the young man had melted against him in a sensual melding of arms and legs.   
  
He pulled the robe away from him and tossed it aside, ran his hands down the smooth chest until he reached the beringed nipples. The body under him twitched as he touched them and he slid his mouth down to take a ring between his teeth and pull on it as he continued his exploration. The silk wrap was no impediment - he pulled it away and the young man was naked before him.   
  
"Spread yourself for me" he said softly as he kissed and touched, hands moving slowly down the chest and stomach, and he rumbled his approval when those elegant legs slid apart and lifted. He lowered both hands and pushed the legs up tight against the slave's chest, slid one hand down to undo his trousers and lift out his burning cock.   
  
He was grateful again that there was no resistance, the idea of forcing anyone, male or female, repulsed him. Considering his own arousal, he was doubly grateful, for it would have been very hard to stop, to leave that glorious body untouched. Indeed, the bedslave was either very experienced or very anxious - his eyes were half-closed, mouth open and he was breathing in short, excited pants.   
  
Kedric slid forward, lifted the thighs up, continued to push until the rounded ass was high and he reached down and slid the oiled opening apart. With a small twist of his body he flipped his cock up to the right position and, without touching himself, inserted it into the hot, tight passage. "What is your name?" he whispered as he moved into the quivering body.   
  
"Oh. . .Obi-Wan . .yes, I should . . oh." The response dissolved into moans of pleasure.   
  
He leant forward, curved himself over the moaning boy, watched the eyes go mindlessly wide as his manhood was worked further inside and up to stroke that place he sought on some instinctive level. This was all so wonderfully familiar, far more familiar than what would have been known from a similar previous joining. The fact that he was so desperate to taste this body that he hadn't even bothered to undress was illuminating - as little as he knew of his past life, he presumed he was a man who respected the niceties of behaviour.   
  
Not that this Obiwan seemed to mind - any attempt on his part to move away was met by hands grabbing him and holding him still, as if the young man was afraid he'd go somewhere and not come back.. In truth, if the roof had fallen in at that moment he would not have budged.   
  
He was like a man who'd found water after days of wandering the desert, quenched of an aching thirst, held gloriously in place by the tight, slick confines of the body pushing up against him. Pleasure radiated out from his loins, spiralling up in waves of tingling erotic fire until all his hard-held reserve was gone in a blast of climax. He convulsed, bit his lip to stop himself from shouting as his seed flowed out into the young man's shivering body.   
  
It had all happened very fast he realised as he sagged against the damp body beneath him. The candles had barely burnt down since he'd entered the room, though it felt like a lifetime ago. What did he do now? Compliment the boy for the good fucking and tip him a gold piece? Pour him a glass of wine and send him on his way?   
  
Or what? Or keep him, put decent clothing on him and take him away somewhere where he could sit and talk and find out what it was that was missing, why it was that he felt complete and comfortable for the first time in weeks. This young man, who held him with such ferocious strength, knew things he needed to know. But would the Duke be amenable to giving up such a high quality slave? And how could he pay for him, when he had nothing to call his own but his sword and his life?   
  
Whatever it was, whatever the cost, it had to be paid.   
  
Obi-Wan woke to the comforting familiar sense of Qui-Gon's big body next to him in bed. He took a few minutes to luxuriate in the pleasure of watching him sleep, of just being there with him after so much time of not knowing if he was alive or dead. The reason for Qui-Gon not looking for him was sadly obvious - he had some sort of amnesia, didn't remember his own identity or Obi-Wan. It made things very difficult, but he was alive, and that was one vast burden removed from Obi-Wan's heart.   
  
He rested chin on his raised hand and looked at the sleeping man. On his back, with arms and legs caught in the bedding, he seemed normal enough. Yet there was something fundamentally primitive about him. Some lack of his normal restraints, a basic emotionalism that Qui-Gon had never had. They'd made love twice, the second time after Qui-Gon had stripped, and it had been hotter and more exciting than anything they'd done together before. The amnesia was a pest - but that aspect of it was rather appealing.   
  
Where had this passionate, dominant lover been hiding inside his serene Jedi Master? He ran one hand over the lightly haired chest, down to the stomach and, wanting to test this newfound Qui-Gon, slid his fingers under the sheet to the touch the warm quiescent flesh that had given them both so much pleasure. He felt and sensed Qui-Gon wake at the touch. One moment asleep, the next awake and astride him, hands holding him down, a dagger appearing from somewhere to rest at his throat.   
  
This Qui-Gon was . . .dangerous. He held very still, watched dazed half-sleep fade from the blue eyes as awareness slid in to take their place. Qui-Gon blinked and shook his head. "Fool. Be careful how you wake me."   
  
"I'm sorry, Master." The instinctive flush of fear faded as he realised he'd only triggered a protective reaction from Qui-Gon's damaged psyche. The old term seemed more natural at that moment, more proper and Qui-Gon relaxed, dropped the knife back onto the bedside table. Obi-Wan slid his hands slowly up the strong thighs, around the hips and squeezed both buttocks. "I'll try not to frighten you again."   
  
Slowly, Qui-Gon slid back and down, pushing Obi-Wan's legs apart to lie between them. He slipped his arms under Obi-Wan's back, the tension in his body sliding away. "You didn't frighten me - you surprised me. I don't like surprises when I'm naked and asleep."   
  
"What do I.. . ." His words disintegrated into thoughtless groans as the mouth worked the skin of his throat, beard rubbing the damp, hot skin, the hard chest moving back and forth across tender, beringed nipples. The mouth moved to his chest, sucking on the nipple rings as the big hands held him hard against the body above him.   
  
"Just obey my will and be as you, beautiful and desirable and..." Qui-Gon's words became muffled as his mouth slid up to cover Obi-Wan's, as he pushed his tongue inside, tasting the depths of his lover's mouth, holding his head still between both hands. Obi-Wan had never felt so helpless and it shook him, the pleasure of that helplessness, so that he   
quivered and moaned into that taking mouth.   
  
It would have been easy to simply let himself be taken and owned by this man but they were both more than what the current circumstances had made them. He shook the man above him, caught his attention.   
  
"Please. We have to talk."   
  
"Talk. I'm listening."   
  
Obi-Wan had never heard Qui-Gon speak with such slurred sensuality, it made it very difficult to think. "Could you . . . just stop doing that for a moment." 'That' was Qui-Gon rubbing himself slowly up and down against Obi-Wan as he rested on his elbows smiling down into his much-put-upon lover's face. "I can't - please!"   
  
Qui-Gon dipped his head and the long fall of silvered hairs stroked across Obi-Wan's chest with each movement. He bent again to the nipple rings, seemingly fascinated by them, and each tug from his teeth sent sharp ripples of pleasure, tinged with pain, along Obi-Wan's nerves. "Speak then. Tell me stories." He moved across to the other ring, beard   
stroking a line of fire across the damp chest. "Tell me who I am."   
  
Obi-Wan twitched as those hands roamed over his skin and turned him onto his side as Qui-Gon positioned himself comfortably behind him. Still, he persisted, knowing how important it was to reach Qui-Gon's memories. "You are Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master. You are - very good at - I mean, a very prominent Jedi negotiator and - oh, yes, do that - no, I mean you are...we came here to . . .oh, please. . !"   
  
Thought was difficult with that long body pressed against his back. He ran his free hand along the arm that was wrapped over his chest - his own hand and arm were pale against skin browned by the sun. His fingers touched small striped scars that showed the hard usage the body had met during those lost weeks. The grip of that big hand hardened as he touched it and he rested his own arm and hand on top of it and curled his fingers under the callused palm.   
  
Hard thighs brushed against him as long legs wrapped around him and held him in place - held him as that strong body surged against him, thrusting inside in one certain stroke.   
  
 _We fit together so well_ It was all he could think of before he was arching backwards against hard thighs, hearing the grunt at each pounding thrust, feeling the delicious pressure of that familiar penetration. His head fell back as Qui-Gon curled around him, lifting his head, turning it, mouth seeking his and he closed his eyes in languid pleasure. It was so easy just to let go, just to swim in the electric pleasure running along his nerves like fire.   
  
A hand stroked his face, down his neck and under his arm to pull at the nipple rings, sharp little tugs that sent sweet pain through his chest. He shifted onto his knees as Qui-Gon followed him up, arms gathering him under chest and stomach, one hand sliding under his groin to stroke his already-engorged cock. Then they were rocking together, sobbing out the pleasure of orgasm triggering orgasm that tore through them and left them collapsed together on the mattress, sweaty and exhausted.   
  
When they did finally talk, in the early hours of the morning, he had managed to convince Qui-Gon to take him away from the Palace, though not to remove the binder. He refused the request, as stubborn as ever in spite of Obi-Wan frustrated urging.   
  
"I cannot tell right now how truthful your words are. Removing that would condemn both of us and that would be foolish. The Duke will remove it - if I purchase you."   
  
Lying alongside Qui-Gon in the early morning light, Obi-Wan sighed. "I suppose so. I just wish I could convince you to trust me." He looked across into the watchful blue eyes, cursed the binder that stopped him from activating the link between them. So close, so close to freedom. All he needed was trust, acceptance, belief. A few words and the removal   
of a piece of metal and they would be safe and gone. He sensed he was getting through to Qui-Gon but without the Force he couldn't initiate their link and trigger the memories. All he had, still, was hope.   
  
Kedrickk watched the young man wrap the length of white silk around his hips and tuck the end under the top layer before pulling on the ridiculous long scarlet silk robe. "I must look foolish," he said as he pushed his arms into the loose sleeves, smiling in a way that Kedrick found increasingly familiar.   
  
"You look superb, as you well know," he said, resting his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders. Each touch of that young, beautiful body inflamed him - even after repeated lovemaking he still wanted to push the young man against the wall and take him again. Dragging his hands away he straightened and turned away to dress.   
  
"I will ask the Lord Seleth to buy you from the Duke. He's often offered me payments which I've never taken - and if you are worth more than those I will swear service to him until the debt is paid."   
  
Obi-Wan turned, wrapping the scarlet robe around himself with a gold sash. "But - if we can just get out of this place we can leave - I mean, leave the planet. We can get you to a Healer and restore your memory."   
  
"Whoever I may have been," Kedrick said with certainty, "I know I am not a man to stain my word of honour. We stay, if necessary, till the pledge is paid. It may not be necessary." He pulled on his pants, shirt and boots and buckled on his belt. "They should be breakfasting now, lets hope we can catch them in a good mood."   
  
The Duke and the Seleth were indeed eating their first meal in a sunny parlour on the first floor of the palace, neither man looking like someone who had debauched the night away. The two men watched Kedrick and Obi-Wan enter and the Duke smiled as he saluted the wizard with a cup of ale.   
  
"No need to thank me, Wizard. I've been keeping that one for just the right occasion."   
  
He hadn't liked the Duke from the moment they'd entered the Palace - there was something slimy and unpleasant about him though he looked decent enough. Tall, solid and well-dressed, his long face decorated by a neat half-beard, he looked presentable enough. Yet he was like a piece of fruit that seemed edible on the outside but,. Once bitten into, proved to be rotten and worm-eaten at the core. Inside the Grand Duke was some sort of cold, dark core, slimy and calculating.   
  
Kedrick bowed to both men as Obi-Wan came to stand beside him. He looked at the Warlord, bowed again. "My Lord, I would ask a favour of you. This young man pleases me and I've asked for little from you in the last weeks. I would request you buy him for me. If the price is more than my debt...?   
  
Seleth raised a hand, his sharp eyes bright with humour. "Enough! You've earned his cost twice over. I'm pleased to see you enjoying something beyond your magics." He turned to the Duke. "Well, my Lord Duke, if you've a price for the boy I'll hear it and we'll add him to the bill."   
  
Kedrick could almost see darkness swirling behind the mild expression on the Duke's face and the words were almost unnecessary.   
  
"I'm sorry, Seleth, I have plans for the boy and he isn't for sale." The Duke reached over and rang a bell on the table beside him. "Any other slave from my general pool and I'd not hesitate, but this one is being saved for a special purpose." He smiled, but the expression didn't go to his eyes. "There's little to be concerned about, it isn't as if good bedslaves aren't easily found."   
  
Cold anger stirred inside Kedrick's middle and he reached out to grab Obi-Wan's arm as the boy moved forward. "No. Wait. Sir, my Lord Duke, this is very important to me, perhaps we can -"   
  
The Duke cut in on his words. "I said no, wizard. Be glad of your nights pleasure and leave it at that."   
  
The door opened and Ferris hurried into the room. "You called, My Lord?"   
  
"Yes. Take this one back to the slaves quarters."   
  
As Ferris turned Obi-Wan wrenched his arm from Qui-Gon's grip and jumped back. "No! I won't stay here! I'm not a slave! You have to let me go with him!"   
  
Two guards, who'd been standing silently by the door, lunged forward and grabbed Obi-Wan by the upper arms as he moved backwards. "Gently!" the Duke hissed, slamming his mug of ale onto the table, "I don't want him damaged!"   
  
Kedrick watched the flushed and angry face, watched him struggle in the guard's grip and flinched. Torn between a powerful desire to help the young man and the absolute frustration of his lack of knowledge, he did nothing. / /If only my memories would return or my powers show me some path to follow. All I have is questions, and doubts...//   
  
Obi-Wan had no such concerns: he swung around and landed a solid kick on the legs of one of the men holding him. Kedrick watched in mounting apprehension as Obi-Wan tried to fight his way out of the men's grip. At the Duke's signal two more guards entered and the four of them soon had the young man subdued. Ferris had been ordered to drug the slave and he moved carefully forward to press the drug-soaked cloth to Obi-Wan's face.   
  
Even from two metres away he could smell the sharp, cloying stink of the ether and he clenched his hands into fists, wondering how much more of this he could take. It was wrong, a part of him clawed at him to move but some small, hateful voice of common sense froze him in place. Even if he fought then, tried to save the boy, he'd be faced with four armed men and who knew how many more beyond the room. It was useless, and yet -   
  
 _He's telling the truth. You know him. You love him. Without facts, without confirmation of memory or image or thought, you know it. . . ._    
  
He heard the little eunuch apologise softly to Obi-Wan as he held the cloth in place. As Obi-Wan's struggles lessened, as Kedrick watched in growing dismay, they all heard the Duke's final words.   
  
"And Ferris - order in the surgeon for tonight. I'll have him gelded. That will quieten him . . ."   
  
* * *   
  
He woke with a shudder, struggled upright and twisted aside as nausea rushed up from his belly in a red wave. A hand held his head as he threw up and when the stomach cramping was done he looked blearily into Ferris' sympathetic face. The older man was holding a ceramic bowl beneath his chin.   
  
"Horrible stuff, I know. Just relax and breathe easy, the sickness will pass in a few moments."   
  
Everything swam in a sickening haze and he could only sit for a time, breathing carefully, holding the bowl in anticipation of more regurgitation. When he could finally move the eunuch handed him a mug of water and wiped his face with a damp cloth   
  
"I'm sorry about that, Obi-Wan, I had no choice."   
  
"No choice, no-one has any choice," he croaked, his throat raw from the chemical, just another discomfort to add to the growing list. He wiped his eyes and straightened, saw that he was on a couch in the slave quarters When he tried to move he felt the pull of the band around his ankle that kept him secured the couch by a length of sturdy chain. "I see. Taking no chances."   
  
Ferris crouched down beside him, eyes bright with misery. "I'm sorry," he said again, raised a hand as if to comfort, then dropped it. "You heard that I had to order the surgeon in."   
  
"Yes, I heard that." Obi-Wan sank back, stared up at the ceiling as the wooliness gradually faded. "Not many choices left after all."   
  
Ferris sighed as he pulled over a chair and sat down. "Some facts of life. He knows what you're thinking - of killing yourself. He's owned a lot of slaves, Obi. You'll be force fed Goldenseed - it's a drug, it makes it so you don't care about anything, everything is just wonderful. And its addictive, after a week you'll take your daily doss of Goldenseed   
with your breakfast Tea. You'll know you've been castrated but you won't care. Nothing will matter anymore."   
  
Obi-Wan looked across at him in horror. "He's...!"   
  
"A monster, yes. He delights in turning human beings into things, crushing their spirit, breaking their minds and hearts. He treats his animals no better, with force and brutality. He goes through his own female slaves at a rate of one a week. They end up mad or dead."   
  
Obi-Wan pulled at the neck collar, frustration driving out the nausea. "If I could only remove for just a moment . . ." He paused as he felt the lock give - turned to look at Ferris as his fingers touched the back of the collar. The mechanism was open - it was unlocked.   
  
"Ferris?"   
  
The older man turned aside and put the bowl on the floor. "If I die for it, I don't care. I won't see you cut as I was." He watched, the smile growing on his weary features as Obi-Wan worked the collar away from his throat.   
  
"Oh yes..." It was almost erotic, the sudden flood of Force energy. He'd felt blinded, already emasculated by that removal of his contact with the Force for so long. To sense it again was its own kind of liberation.   
  
"The only thing I can't do," Ferris said as Obi-Wan pushed himself gingerly to his feet, "is undo that chain. The Chamberlain took the keys with him..."   
  
"That is no problem." Obi-Wan waved a hand over the lock, directing the Force into the mechanism, feeling it click and move and fall away. Ferris watched in amazement as Obi-Wan pulled the band from his ankle and stood, unbound and free.   
  
"I see why he needed to collar you," Ferris said, eyes wide. "That's a great power you have."   
  
"Yes," he said, with a certain savage delight, "but I am free now, and I'm getting out of here." He looked across at Ferris, frowned. "You should come with me. He might hurt you if you stay."  
  
Ferris smiled and waved both hands grandly. "No, I'm an excellent liar and I'm very good at what I do. You just get out of here and find your friend. And good luck."   
  
Obi-Wan surprised the eunuch by giving him a hug, shook his hand and turned to make his careful way through the Palace.   
  
* * *   
  
The Warlord had decided to leave that afternoon, so leave they did. The armed party of twelve men had little in the way of equipment - they saddled and loaded their ponies and were ready to depart minutes after their leader announced his decision. They were glad to be gone from the dissolute and dangerous place, preferring their own life on the open   
plains to palace life. Only one man looked behind him as they rode out the gate. One man left doubtful that the road he travelled was the right one.   
  
Each step that Kedric's big gray pony took away from the tall walls of the palace only increased his uncertainty. He'd seen the look in those changeable eyes, seen that wonderful face anguished, known somehow that it was wrong - wrong to leave him there. Yet what could he do? He had no money of his own and even if he did, the Duke had made it plain. The boy wasn't for sale.   
  
 _Then if he isn't for the buying, he'll have to be taken_. He'd thought, on that first amazing joining that whatever price he had to pay would not be too great. No reason, no logic, just a bone-deep understanding. He pulled the pony's head around and rode away from the group. No-one looked back to see if their lagging wizard was still with them and Kedric kicked the animal into a rough gallop. There wasn't much time, he sensed that. The sun was heading down.   
  
When he reached the road leading up to the gate he heard a sudden commotion within and his strange sensitivity told him that it was connected to Obi-Wan. Figures appeared on the section of wall nearest the gate and his eyes narrowed as he saw a figure appear on top, climb over the stone capping of the wall and begin a descent. However he was doing   
it the young man's movement was extraordinary; he seemed somehow to be scuttling down the wall like some great pink spider.   
  
The wall was built in two sections, level above level, terraced and designed to hold archers at the lower level to repel attack. When he reached that level he spun around and leapt for the upper edge of the groundwall.   
  
Kedric leant forward over the pony's neck and kicked it into a run. An eerie sense of danger flooded his mind - he looked up at the familiar whistle of an archery call and saw a flight of arrows stream downwards from the high wall.   
  
Missed - missed - hit! He cried out at sudden, impossible pain in his back, saw Obi-Wan arch backwards in his leap to the lower wall - reached out in some way that he could never explain through that agonising pain and grabbed him, cushioned him . . . he fell from the saddle, struggled across the ground to where the young man lay. A long black arrow in his back, high right shoulder. He ignored the arrows shafting down around him, picked the limp body up, threw it across the saddle and climbed up behind. He kicked the pony into the fastest pace it could go under the double weight.   
  
The road came to a multiple fork a mile from the castle. One road led out into the hills and down to the plains and it was that road that the Warlord's band had taken. Another road led into the thick stand of forest bordering the Duke's domain and Kedric turned the pony in that direction. The beast was tiring, its sides lathered with white as it ran under its double load. He knew it would not last much longer so he stopped, dismounted and carefully laid the unconscious young man face down in the grass before turning back to the pony. Taking the saddle bag and rolled blanket from the back of the saddle, he looped the reins over the pony's neck, turned it towards the lower road and gave it a sharp slap on the   
hindquarters.   
  
Freed of its burden, the pony galloped away. Hopefully the Duke's men would follow it for a time, long enough for him to carry Obi-Wan well into the forest and cover his own tracks.   
  
It was dark by the time he reached far enough into the woods to feel somewhat safer. He'd stayed away from trails and been as careful as possible not to leave any broken wood or footmarks that would betray his passage to a clever tracker. No normal tracker could follow him at night, but he knew the Duke would have dogs and they could follow a scent   
even at night. He'd used every trick he could think of; walked along a creek, doubling back and leaving false trails in and out of the water, leaping from tree trunks, fouling his feet with animal droppings and leaving multiple trails that dead ended. It all took time and time was running out for the unconscious burden he bore.   
  
It was too dangerous to light a fire so he had to do what he could by touch and sense. He'd snapped the arrow off to stop it from snagging and the blackoak stub was surrounded by swollen, hot flesh when he finally set to work on Obi-Wan's back. Taking it out would not be easy - the barbs would tear and cause who knew what damage. To leave it in was impossible, though. Infection and blood poisoning was the least thing that would come soon enough.   
  
Kedric took a deep, steadying breath, took hold of the broken shaft and pulled it out. Obi-Wan jerked awake, screaming. Without hesitation Kedric struck the young man on the side of the head, sending him back down in   
unconsciousness.   
  
It had hit him as well, that searing pain that jolted through his nerves, hot and sharp. He fought for control of the unexpected anguish, the bloodied arrow shaft gripped in a shaking hand. They were certainly bound by some sort of intimate joining. To share each other's pain wasn't his idea of good fortune.   
  
He did what he could to stem the blood flow, tied strips of cloth over pads made from fabric torn from his own clothing. Obi-Wan was woefully underdressed for the outdoors and he wrapped his heavy brown robe over him to keep off the night chills. Then all he could do was hold him through the long, chill night.   
  
Obi-Wan woke to pain and weakness as he remembered. Running, jumping, calling on the Force to move and climb and fly - arrows whistling by him, then the agony as one struck him. Falling, the sense of something certain and strong holding him and then darkness. He remembered a brief episode of agony, sensed the arrow was gone.   
  
Only Qui-Gon's presence was reassuring. The sturdy, brilliant sense of his bondmate flowed into him along their bond even though he knew Qui-Gon still didn't remember anything. He could sense the confusion, the great gaping holes of memory now that the Force was available to him. He reached out through the Force as he couldn't physically and sensed Qui-Gon flinch.   
  
It was understandable, but it still hurt. "I'm sorry," he whispered, building his own shields up to protect Qui-Gon from the pain he had doubtless been flooded with for hours. "I'll try and...control it. I can't help sending it while I'm unconscious. It's the bond - the link - that we have."   
  
"Yes, I can see that now." The hand that was cradling the back of his head moved gently down to his shoulder. "I need you to teach me, to show me how to help you. Let me help you." The words were soothing, the touch gentle and Obi-Wan sighed with pleasure.   
  
"You already are, just the sense of wanting to is making me feel better. That is part of the Force, the willingness to give. Just keep doing that."   
  
The first rays of the sun were turning the woods silver, lighting on floating mist and dew. It was cool but not unpleasantly so and Obi-Wan watched the features above him as the first light of day worked its way through the forest canopy. The eyes watching him were unsure but intent and no less wise for the lack of understanding. Even without knowing he was one, Qui-Gon would always be Jedi.   
  
Much of the pain faded under the warm strength of Qui-Gon's Force presence. Lying across his mate's lap, Obi-Wan felt more secure than he had in weeks, even damaged as he was. "Just put your hands around the wound - yes - now reach out for the Force. No, not the binding Force, the Living Force, the Force coming from the plants and animals. It's very strong here."   
  
It felt odd for him to be teaching his Master in the ways of the Force after so many years of patient training from the man holding him. Qui-Gon's touch with the living Force was so familiar that its presence energised him simply by being there. His Master wasn't a natural Healer, he didn't have the delicate touch and patience needed for healing, but he managed well enough for the small things.   
  
Obi-Wan let his head rest against the hard chest so close to him. "Yes, now feed it - gently, it's very strong - feed it to the damaged area of my back. The Light side seeks balance, it will heal that which is damaged if you guide it. . ."   
  
Energy flowed into him - Force-essence, living sunlight, there were no words to describe it. It sealed blood vessels, mended torn flesh, destroyed infection - but it was a slow, slow process and it took more control and skill than either of them possessed to do it for long. The power faded, leaving Obi-Wan feeling stronger but still weakened by the loss of blood. He looked up into the perspiration dampened face, raised a hand to touch the bearded cheek.   
  
"Thank you. I feel better."   
  
He was suddenly lifted, held, caressed and kissed as he tasted Qui-Gon's nearly irresistible need. "Want you," Qui-Gon muttered against his mouth as those hands moved gently over his body. "Even here, with this danger we are in and with you as you are - yet I still I want you." He growled in frustration as he mouthed Obi-Wan's chin. "Why am I so hungry for you?"   
  
Obi-Wan chuckled weakly. "It's fairly mutual. We have a very - healthy - sexual relationship. You haven't been with me for weeks. The bond is somewhat demanding." He stroked his lover's arm, his own hand shaking. "I've felt it too, if it's any consolation." His hands slid down, across Qui-Gon's sides, down to his hips. "Let me give you ease, my Master" he whispered, licking his lover's ear. "That, at least, I can do."   
  
"Yes. . ." Qui-Gon hissed with pleasure as Obi-Wan's hand slid beneath the drawstring of his pants to touch the hot, tender flesh between his legs. His head dropped back as Obi-Wan pulled the confining clothing down far enough to release him to be touched and stroked.   
  
Senses intermingling, touching and touched. Hands wrapped around hot, sensitive flesh, barely constrained need - tight skin pushed back from a tender head - lips enfolding, tongue running beneath, across hot flesh already damp from perspiring need - hot and wet, sucking - unable to wait, caught in pleasure familiar and exotic - must come - release and   
delight, spiralling out from one to the other. Electric and wonderful. Exquisite pleasure mingling with the faint overtone of pain .. .   
  
Kedric came back to his senses with a shock, realised suddenly that Obi-Wan lay across him in a weary sprawl. The guilt flushed up to override the pleasure and he sat up, rearranged his clothing and gently cradled his lover in his arms. They both froze, suddenly, at an unmistakable sound: the baying of hounds. The sharp howling yip echoed through the   
trees so that it was impossible to tell the direction But wherever it was, it was much too close . . .  
  
* * *   
  
He ran when he could, walked and stumbled when he couldn't, crawled if he had to. Obi-Wan drew on his deepest reserves - one foot in front of the other, one more step, then one more, then another.   
  
Fatigue dragged at him, robbing him of thought and strength. The Force sustained him when flesh and bone could go no further, and Qui-Gon's presence was a source of comfort and support. Sometimes when he stumbled the older man would hold him up, even carry him, though he was no lightweight. He accepted the assistance because it was necessary and because it felt so good to have that familiar touch once more.   
  
It was difficult to tell how close pursuit was - the forest muffled the sounds of the hounds. Sometimes it seemed closer, sometimes further away. Yet no matter how fast they ran it never completely disappeared. Whoever is hunting us, Obi-Wan thought wearily, they're good.   
  
Morning's dim light had warmed to afternoon sun by they time they paused at the edge of a small creek to drink and   
catch their breath, Obi-Wan voiced the thought that had been growing in him all during the wearisome morning.   
  
"Qui-Gon...." He laid his hand on the tall Jedi's arm. "If it looks as though we can't get away, here's something you should understand. We are lifebonded. It is possible that if one of us dies, the other one will as well. It isn't guaranteed, but it does often happen. Even if death isn't immediate, insanity usually is."   
  
He watched his lover struggle with the idea. "I see. I must feel very strongly for you, to form such a connection."   
  
Obi-Wan lifted one hand and gently stroked the sweat-dampened cheek, rubbing the back of his fingers across the rough hair of Qui-Gon's beard. "It's mutual, you see. You were my Master, my teacher, my best friend, and my lover. We have been together for more than ten years, though only as lovers for the last few months." As he continued to speak he tried to reach through the confusion in his lover's mind. "Don't you remember anything?"   
  
"You are very familiar to me. Obi-Wan." He spoke the name as if to taste it, seeking familiarity. He took Obi-Wan's hand and held it, opened it and stroked a thumb across the palm. "Everything about you seems to attract me - your looks, your voice, your touch. The more I am with you, the more I feel I should be with you." He groaned, slumped backwards against a tree. "Why can I not remember?"   
  
Obi-Wan sank back against him, aware that he was dirty, half naked, his legs and feet scratched and muddied up to the knees, that Qui-Gon was hardly any better - they were a ragged-looking pair of Jedi, bloodied and bruised and lost on a strange world. Yet none of that meant a thing as those familiar arms wrapped around him, holding him with confident strength.   
  
"We were separated," he said, linking his fingers through the larger ones that were wrapped across his stomach, "I suppose you must have been hurt somehow, perhaps a head blow." He sighed, looked about at the forest around them, a living barrier. "We need to get out of these woods. If we can get back to where we left our ship we can get off this planet, get back home to medical help."   
  
"This ship, is it very far?"   
  
"A day's walk towards the rising sun. Less on horseback."   
  
"Then we'd best find horses, even if we have to. . ." Qui-Gon stopped talking at the same moment as Obi-Wan heard the renewed sound of pursuit. Much closer.   
  
"Less time than I thought. Let's go."   
  
As Obi-Wan straightened he pushed aside the ache from the partly healed wound, the stiffness of bruised limbs. He had to go on, so go on he would. Even as they splashed through the creek to try and throw off the dogs he wondered what he would do if they were caught. If he suicided to escape the Duke's knife then Qui-Gon could easily die as well.   
  
 _Worrying about what might happen will achieve nothing. I will meet those obstacles when I come to them._    
  
They drew on the Force to keep going, moving as fast as the terrain and Obi-Wan's injuries allowed, but even that strength began to fade as exhaustion wore away at their reserves. They hadn't eaten for almost a day. They had been almost constantly moving. Their enemy could work in teams and had horses. Things could hardly be worse.   
  
Then they came out of the woods and found themselves on the edge of a precipice. A good hundred feet below a river thrashed and roared through a ravine that was far too wide to leap. Both men looked at it in weary shock.   
  
"There was a bridge," Obi-Wan said, his heart thudding. "I crossed this over a bridge. I remember it."   
  
"Yes, so did we." Qui-Gon sighed and pointed right. "Up that way I think, but how close we are to it I have no idea."   
  
"We can't jump that, can we?" Obi-Wan tried to assess the distance across - well over a hundred feet.   
  
"No. And we've just run out of time."   
  
Obi-Wan swung about, his back to the ravine. A flight of Wood Pheasant exploded from the undergrowth as a group of riders broke through into the open. There were a dozen armed and armoured soldiers mounted on horses and two more on foot controlling four very large black hounds. The lead rider was the Duke and he held up one hand, bringing his men to a halt. Even from that distance Obi-Wan could sense the man's dark, evil pleasure.   
  
"Well, you two have led us a fine chase. Best hunt I've had in an age."   
  
Obi-Wan sensed the Duke's satisfaction as he turned to look at him. "You caused one of my best horses to be put down with a broken leg, little slave. For that, you'll loose your eyes as well as your balls. A bed slave doesn't need to see to be used. And I will make sure you are very thoroughly used. As for you, wizard, I'll have you watch as he's cut before you're garrotted."   
  
Obi-Wan focused on the Duke, searching for weakness but all he could hear was the musical ping of bowstrings being tightened, the harsh growl of the hounds as they pulled against the leads. He made a rapid threat assessment: too many threats, too many angles of attack to defend against. Even as he heard the familiar hiss of Qui-Gon's lightsaber he knew that a dozen armed men, spread in a wide arc and ready to fire at a signal, would be too many for them.   
  
For two Jedi, armed and in perfect health, it would have been no problem - but he was unarmed and injured and Qui-Gon could not defend against every attack. He could preserve himself perhaps, but not both of them - and Obi-Wan knew his lover would instinctively protect him, even at the risk of his own life.   
  
He stepped forward, away from Qui-Gon, licked the sweat from his lips, tasted the fear and put it aside.   
  
"My Lord, I would discuss a surrender. . . for his freedom . ."   
  
Even before the Duke could refuse, Qui-Gon moved forward, doused his 'saber and swept him up over his shoulder as he twisted backwards. Arrows hissed through the air, a voice shouted . . . and then they were in the air and Qui-Gon had sprung out from the edge.   
  
They fell, spinning in the turbulent wet air. Obi-Wan twisted, grabbed for the Force to cushion their fall so they struck the river in a suspended dive rather than a fatal crash.   
  
Cold! Terrible crushing cold, driving the air from his lungs, the strength from his body. He thrashed upwards blindly, swallowed too much water, felt darkness seeping into the edges of his mind as his body failed and he knew he was losing, drowning. . .   
  
Strength flowed into him as a hand grabbed his arm, pulled him up and up and then there was light and wonderful air. He choked, coughed up water and was pulled through the water to the shore.   
  
It took some moments to get enough breath together to speak. "You threw me off a cliff!"   
  
"I threw us both off a cliff, as it happens, love."   
  
He froze, looked up - and saw Qui-Gon looking at him out of that wet, bruised face. His voiceless query elicited a smile.   
  
"Yes, I remember. When I hit the water I blacked out for a moment. " He stroked his forehead absently and Obi-Wan saw a small bruise. "I think I may have hit a floating log. There are still gaps but I know who I am. Who you are."   
  
A vast relief flooded Obi-Wan and it took an act of will not to throw himself into his lover's arms. "Well. At last. Good."   
  
"I've been behaving very erratically, haven't I?" he asked as Obi-Wan continued wringing water from his clothing.   
  
"You could say that. Not surprising, considering, but you still knew enough to use the Force, though I don't believe you understood it."   
  
"No, I didn't. It's strange, I feel like I'm reviewing the memories of another man, like watching a recording." He stopped and Obi-Wan sensed his sudden apprehension, turned to look across the river and up at the ravine's edge.   
  
"That man is annoyingly persistent," Qui-Gon said as his eyes narrowed. "We'd best be on our way before he gets to the bridge and comes back after us." He stood, wavered a little and winced.   
  
Obi-Wan pulled himself up, concerned. "Are you all right?"   
  
"Yes. Just a headache." He turned, scanning the terrain. "We won't make it to the ship before nightfall but we can make some distance - if you are up to hard travel."   
  
He was sore and hungry and cold and tired but Qui-Gon's recovery had energised him. "I'll keep up."   
  
A big hand clasped his arm in a comforting grip. "My Obi-Wan. You've had a bad few weeks. When we get home. . ."   
  
"Yes." He put a hand over Qui-Gon's, squeezed it briefly. "Home. Let's go."   
  
The leap from the cliff had given them a good lead and they put it to good advantage, heading straight out through the woods to the road leading back to where they'd left the ship. It meant leaving the protection of the trees but in the open they travelled faster and could cut across country, through fields and farms, bypassing a small town until nightfall made travel difficult. They found a storage barn some distance from a small farmyard and Obi-Wan made a rough bed from straw and sacking while Qui-Gon hunted for food.   
  
He returned after a while with some eggs and pieces of bread so old they were rock-like. "I believe these were meant to feed one of the farmer's beasts, but it had more than enough. With some water to soften it, it should be edible."   
  
They holed and sucked the eggs, softened the bread with a bucket of well water. It was primitive and rough but it filled their bellies. It was much too dangerous to make a fire, so they curled up together in the straw. Despite the fact that the bed was rough, the ground hard and the night cool Obi-Wan slept with Qui-Gon's arms around him, the best blanket he could ask for.   
  
Qui-Gon woke to a sense of well-being. Even without opening his eyes he could sense Obi-Wan beside him, through all his senses. The warmth of his body nestled against Qui-Gon's side, the somewhat musky but familiar odour, the sound of his quiet snoring - and the Force presence - how could he have ever not recognised that powerful, bright touch?   
  
He looked at last, watched the morning sun play across the face resting against him. Even smudged and dirty, he was perfect. He dipped his head and rested his cheek against the warm forehead. He saw Obi-Wan's eyelashes stir, saw the eyes open, turn up and focus on his face.   
  
"Morning."   
  
"Good morning."   
  
Obi-Wan turned on his side, draping one arm across Qui-Gon's chest. "How's the memory?"   
  
"Mostly returned. There are still blank spots - I have no idea what we are doing here, or the name of this planet. I remember the important things, though." He smiled as Obi-Wan's fingers began exploring his chest. "I certainly remember that."   
  
"What else do you remember?" Obi-Wan's voice was a sultry murmur and Qui-Gon felt the familiar stirring. Whenever Obi-Wan spoke to him that way, with that sensual drawl, his voice husky and low, Qui-Gon found all his Masterly restraints disappearing like morning mist in the sun.   
  
"I remember. . . let me see . . ." He watched the hand move down over his stomach, fingertips brushing through the dusting of hair down from the naval. "Ah, I have some memory of you dressed in something very exotic and then . ." He sucked in a sharp breath as the fingers moved into the hair around his genitals.   
  
"And then? Do you recall dragging me onto the bed and making love to me like some primitive warrior?" He twitched as Obi-Wan dipped his head to lick at a tender nipple.   
  
"Yes, I think I remember. That. It was. Ah, it was. Good." Unable to resist any longer, he slid both hands around Obi-Wan's head, pulled him up for a kiss. Obi-Wan moved on top of him, groin to groin and the feel of that hot, hard flesh touching him was exquisite. Qui-Gon moved one hand down to cup the round swell of Obi-Wan's bottom, holding him as he pushed up wards.   
  
They made slow, gentle love, content to touch and love with growing familiarity and reassurance. Sometime later Qui-Gon squirmed in discomfort and rolled upright. "We need to get going. A few more hours travel and we'll be back at the ship. And then. .."   
  
"I'd like to go back to the Castle. When we have the ship."   
  
Qui-Gon turned to look down at Obi-Wan, puzzled. "For what purpose?"   
  
"For Ferris. If it wasn't for him I would have been, well, I wouldn't have been able to enjoy myself as I did just then. He deserves my help, and his freedom."   
  
They walked for the rest of the day and found the ship as they had left it, covered by brush and hidden in the little ravine where they had been forced to land. No-one had found it and it was in the same condition has they had left it all those weeks before.   
  
As soon as they were safely inside and the hatch locked, they headed for the fresher. Washed and dressed in clean tunics and leggings, they both felt renewed and refreshed.   
  
"The storage batteries have topped up while we were gone," Obi-Wan said, as he ran through a systems check. "We'll have no trouble getting off the planet, and the jump engines appear to be functional. First, though. . ."   
  
"Yes. Your friend." Qui-Gon sat in the co-pilot's seat and began the pre-launch sequence. "Very well, shall we go back and give the Duke something of a surprise visit?"   
  
The residents of the Duke's Castle had never seen anything like the peculiar shape that hovered in the sky above the northern most watchtower of the castle's outer enclosure. When the Duke sent his terrified men out to the wall they ran screaming as the thing sent a beam of flame down onto the watchtower's roof, shattering it in an explosive blast that sent segments of wall showering in all directions.   
  
The thing lowered itself to the top of the southern watchtower and a hole appeared in its side. A few seconds later Obi-Wan walked down the ramp to the watchtower room.   
  
He waited, and eventually the Duke appeared, surrounded by his guards.   
  
Obi-Wan didn't wait for the man to start blustering. "I want Ferris brought to me, unharmed. If you do not bring him, or you threaten him, or me, I will raise my ship and reduce your castle to scattered ruin. You know I can do this. Please don't waste my time."   
  
He could see the man was engorged with fury but, evil though he was, he wasn't stupid and he knew Obi-Wan was capable of doing exactly what he had threatened. As he turned to speak to one of his guards, Obi-Wan called out again.   
  
"And I was carrying a cylindrical object which is, as I am sure you know, a weapon. I wish that returned to me as well."   
  
A few minutes later a bedraggled figure was carried out by two guards. They took Ferris up the stairs and Obi-Wan cut out a section of the roof and, with a little Force manipulation, lifted the injured slave up onto the roof. He was shocked, beaten and bloodied but relatively whole.   
  
"It's alright Ferris," Obi-Wan said as he wrapped a blanket around the nearly naked man, "don't be afraid."   
  
He shook his head, smiling through swollen, half-closed eyes. "No, not afraid. Really happy!" He patted Obi-Wan on the arm gratefully. "Thank you. Was not.. .having much fun."   
  
Obi-Wan helped Ferris aboard the ship and settled him into a bed, then went back to the roof to collect his lightsaber. As he did he caught sight of an archer moving into position in a nearby tower window and shook his head.   
  
"You should have listened to me," he said, looking down at the enraged nobleman. With a flick of his hand he knocked the archer away from the window then went back aboard the ship.   
  
"Do you think," Obi-Wan said, as he settled into the pilot's seat, "we could do something about this wall? I believe it may be unsafe."   
  
Qui-Gon gave a brief smile, lifted the ship and sent it drift slowly along the length of tall outer wall. Obi-Wan triggered the downward thrusters at intervals, leaving behind a scattered pile of rubble. When he was satisfied, he flicked the thrusters off and Qui-Gon lifted the ship out of the atmosphere.   
  
"I know we aren't supposed to consider things like revenge and anger and aggression," Obi-Wan said, as he sat back in the seat and watched the sky turn to space, "but I think that was more like justice overdue."   
  
"I believe you are right, my Obi," Qui-Gon responded mildly. " Shall we go home?"   
  
They aimed the little ship for the stars and jumped to hyperspace.   
  
END


End file.
